


In the Heart of Darkness

by natashawitch



Series: Were-Haven [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012) RPF, CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Bleak, Dark, Drug Use, Forced Prostitution, Human Jake/Canine Client, Hurt, M/M, Other, Sensory Deprivation, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:59:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashawitch/pseuds/natashawitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This a drabble I wrote during the chapters from Jake's POV at the start of Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall to see deeper into Jake's character.<br/>It is set in the past, during Jake's time in Erskine's brothel.<br/>I have decided to post it, but be warned it is a dark dark fic.<br/>If you are reading the series from the start I would read the first few chapters of Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall before returning to read this piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Heart of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is dark and possibly upsetting.  
> Don't read if you want fluff and smut.  
> I have not used the bestiality tag but Jake is in human form and the client is in his canine form at one point. Jake's white scars on his sides are claw marks.
> 
> I am posting separately. Although Jake may talk about his past again in Rain Must Fall, it will not be in this dark bleak detail.

It was dark when Puppy woke. Heavy pads pressed down on his eyelids and cotton stuffed his ears.

_My name is Jake Abel. I can survive this._

Jake repeated the words in his head. He wasn’t sure about his age anymore but needed to remember his name. Mr Erskine had never used it. Even at his Mum’s graveside when he had pulled Jake away into the back of a waiting car, he had called him Bitch and Puppy. He had been here in this room, working, for so many months now. He wasn’t sure how many because there were no clocks or calendars. He had been scratching the days into the bed frame with his claw but the cat with the huge barbed penis, Buchanan, had spotted them and his bed was replaced with the metal one. Erskine had removed Jake’s fingernails one by one with his own pliers, but Jake didn’t think about that day and after the bandages were removed his nails had grown back. Mr Erskine gave him the opportunity to prove he could be good, breaking him in again personally and testing his behaviour with pain.

He tried to move but his wrists remained cuffed to the bed. He didn’t understand. He was a good boy. Tears threatened to wet his blindfold which would be miserable. He held them back. He was a good boy. His Mum had always said he was. The alphas said so.

Hands pulled at him. Four hands roughly turned him and pulled the flanged omega plug out with a sickly popping feeling. The more calloused pair of hands rubbed along his jaw line then there was something wet on his cheek. They shaved his face and ran the razor down his chest to catch any stray hairs. He knew must have another client. A straw poked at his lips. Jake opened up grateful, unable to recall his last sustenance. It was the cherry flavour. The client must want him aroused. Cherry made him hard. Blackberry made him woozy and pliant. The green one that didn’t taste much of anything made him buzz with energy and hysterical laughter. Stag parties liked the green one. Most often Jake got the water with a metallic tang. Once he had accepted that Mr Erskine used his product on his whores, Jake took the metallic water without protest. It softened the edges of the world.

Cherry was gone. The press of head against his lips made Jake open up and suck the long uncut cock down. He relaxed his throat and hummed around the alpha. It was always alphas. Jake was exclusive. A private indulgence for mated and rich weres. In this nightmare Jake clung to his status in the brothel. The more they paid for him the sooner his mother’s massive drugs debt would be worked off. He prayed sometimes, not to Luna or God, but to his father. Thanking him for showing him how to please an alpha, how to be a good pup, how to hold his body and still his mind. All those lessons served him well now. His obedience and training had impressed Mr Erskine. He had long ago given up the dreams of his father returning home and riding in to free him from this place. Daddy wasn’t coming back. 

Sound rushed in as the plugs were removed from his ears. The buckle of the blindfold was being worked on by nails that dug into his scalp.

“Better wash his hair too” a guttural voice said. That was the alpha with the calloused hands. Jake liked him. He was kind when he used his services, always making sure Jake was comfortable.

“I dunno, looks like a spray of dry shampoo will do. Did you give him his suppressants?” That was the one with the sharp nails and uncut cock. He was rougher but not the worst of his keepers.

“You know Marshall likes Puppy to be clean.” Calloused Hands protested.

Jake shuddered inside as light was revealed. Marshall was one the clients who paid top rates. 

“Slowly now Puppy, blink a few times.” Nails instructed and sat Jake upright with his legs hanging off the side of the bed. 

One of the inbuilt restraint buckles bit into his thigh but he didn’t flinch. He blinked as instructed letting his pupils adjust.

“Good boy,” Nails patted his head making Jake long for more praise and soft touches, “You’ve had the pads on for a week. Don’t strain your eyes.”

Fear rose in Jake’s chest. It couldn’t have been a week. He was losing track of time again.

“Better?” 

Jake bowed his head low in acknowledgment. He knew better than to speak. The drawer inside the locked wardrobe held his gags; spider, ball, bar, bit and ring. He detested them all and wouldn’t risk having to wear one for extended punishment. 

Calloused Hands rubbed some ointment on his back. “Those birthday jerks broke his skin. They didn’t pay to mark him.”

“Tell Erskine. He’ll deal with them.”

“I have to change the sheets now too. There are spots from the whip marks. Just super. I don’t know why housekeeping can’t come in here.”

“Fucking three years and you still can’t get it, Mic...” Nails stopped. They weren’t allowed to use names in front of Puppy, “Exclusive... no humans, no fucking betas, no other omegas. Alphas only.”

“And Mr Erskine.” 

Nails laughed, “You think Erskine wasn’t going to make use of his finest piece of omega ass?”

They moved Jake over to the breeding bench and strapped him down. Jake let them manipulate his arms and legs. He drifted while the alphas changed the sheets, sprayed some neutralising air fresheners and gave him a quick douche using the big turkey baster type implement.

“Sorry Puppy. It’s Marshall. Hard but no coming.” Calloused Hands whispered in his ear as he wrapped the metal ring around the base of Jake’s soft short omega cock.

Jake groaned.

“Good boy, you are the best one here Puppy. One day when Erskine lets you go, you’ll be snapped up by one of us.” Nails promised.

A stream of cherry tainted bile dripped from Jake’s lips at the thought of eternity with one of his keepers.

They left him displayed over the bench. Marshall must have paid for a whole night. They would start there and then when the huge wolf-hyena alpha was stated and Jake was wrecked and sore, Marshall would release him. A meal would be served while Jake performed what Marshall called the ‘ancient dance’. A programme of submissive postures Tensure recommended an omega display for an alpha they wished to impress. If Marshall was pleased, and he normally was, then he would feed Jake titbits from his hand. It was Marshall who taught Jake how to dislocate his jaw to take a knot. Dessert was ropes of come, on his knees, waiting for Marshall to soften enough to pull out. They would finish on the bed, knotted again, while the giant hybrid whispered praise and lies of buying him from Erskine and taking him home. Others hissed those lies in his ears, especially the lynx Fillip and the brutal feline hybrid Wenzel.

It was silent for a long time. Jake only heard the noise from the brothel when the door was opened. His room had no window. Then there was the blast of noise and the slam of the door. Panting and clicking claws announced his client’s arrival. Heat, hair, weight and canine-alpha scent pressed his stomach onto the bench. Paws patted his back. Claws raked new red raw marks on his sides. The wolf-hyena howled as he breached his bitch dry and unprepared.

Jake didn’t scream in pain. His body spasmed releasing slick to ease way of the long hot cock.

Puppy was a specialist. He was made for this. He could do it. He was good at it. He could survive. One day he would be his own boss. He would choose his clients. He would be free.

Hours later dozing on the bed, blissfully alone, Jake heard the key turning. He licked his dry lips. It must be time for a meal.

Mr Erskine’s cologne preceded him. Jake sprang from the bed and displayed his body in the full greeting prostration. His head pressed deeply against the floor and the angle between his fingers could be measured with a protractor. 

“Exquisite.” That was Marshall’s voice. Jake couldn’t understand why he was back.

“Up Puppy,” Erskine’s slimy tone curdled in Jake’s stomach. He rose only as far as an upright kneel. He had not been commanded to stand. Erskine’s vicious grip caught his chin and tilted his head from one side to the other, “I will be sorry to see you go, you have been quite the cash cow, and such a compliant well behaved one.”

Jake’s heart thrummed in his chest. Was his debt paid? Was Marshall there because he was the final client?

“Alpha Marshall has made me an offer. He has taken on your remaining debt and given me a tidy profit. You will go home with him Puppy, he is your master now.”

Jake’s bottom lip trembled. His chest heaved ruining his posture, but his new master didn’t punish his slip up like Daddy would have. He ran his fingers through Jake’s hair and put a length of leather under Jake’s nose for him to scent. It was wide for a whip, more like a strap. 

“God, Marshall, you know I hate these places, and those goons didn’t want me to follow,” A jovial voice made Jake glance to his right. There was a beta there. Jake was so amazed to see another were-gender it took him a moment to take in that the new were was dressed provocatively in shorts and a see through tank top. He was fox and he curled his arm into Marshall’s elbow. “Is this him? The omega that is stealing my sugar daddy?”

“This is Puppy,” Marshall growled out, “Johnny behave yourself or I’ll bend you over and spank you here.”

Johnny threw his head back and laughed, “No you won’t, darling, you’ve exceeded your pre-paid limit on spankings. You can’t call him Puppy he must be twenty if he is a day.”

“You name him then, John.” Marshall said in a bored tone.

The beta touched Jake’s cheek lightly. He gazed up into sad eyes that spoke of kindness and tenderness. “What is your name little wolf?”

Jake didn’t know if he could say. He glanced back at Erskine, who was ignoring the exchange and talking on his phone.

He cleared his throat, “Jake, master.”

“Oh shush, don’t master me. I’m no-one’s master Jacob Boy. I make a mean mistress though. Drag queen champion of Strathclyde.” Johnny winked.

“Shift for me now Jacob.” Marshall ordered.

Jake was pleased with the first command. He had spent too little time as wolf in the brothel. He was leaving. Marshall would hardly want to pound into his human body in the alpha’s canine form day and night. No alpha had that much stamina. He would go home with Marshall and Johnny. He would walk out of this room.

“Oh Luna,” Marshall patted Jake’s flank in pleasure, “He is a pure white. Stunning. Erskine you sly gangster. No wonder you had the rule against getting the puppy to shift. He would have been stolen from under your nose.”

The leather strap turned out to be a dog harness. Jake was led out of the brothel and into a waiting car. Marshall drove them home to his modern apartment looking over the river. Johnny rode in the back whispering into Jake’s cocked ear, of good times, how he much preferred being freelance than brothels and pimps, and how much fun they would have when Marshall was working long hours at his office.

That winter shivering in the ice on the far side of Kingston Bridge, Jake looked up at the darkened apartment windows. Marshall was gone, promoted to Wall Street. He had given Jake to Johnny as a gift. The fox had taken him home to Phoebe and Polly. It was cold and the first flurries of snow stuck to Jake’s bottom lip. He longed for the backseat of a heated car and for the blankets in front of the paraffin heater in their dilapidated toilet den. A final glance at the apartment windows steeled him to wait a while longer for a john. As Marshall’s pet wolf, he had taken his first steps towards autonomy. As long he serviced his alpha master, Marshall was generous. For the first time in his life every hour was not proscribed by his father, his mother or Mr Erskine. He learned to eat when he wanted. Watch what he wanted on the TV. Talk back to Johnny. 

Baby steps, Johnny always said. Jake was beginning to take them.


End file.
